


Evil ones should get a little more

by francisabernathywontpayhisparkingtickets



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blowjobs, Face-Fucking, I don't talk about Lucien's gender but know that he's got some weird shit going on, Kinda, Lucien wants Caleb to dom him and Caleb wants to not do that, M/M, Molly isn't in this fic but Lucien and Caleb both think about him a bit, Other, Service Top Caleb, Trans Caleb Widogast, bottom to bottom communication, labels are so subjective anyway the point is that Lucien wanted hate sex and was thwarted, well..., whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29531994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/francisabernathywontpayhisparkingtickets/pseuds/francisabernathywontpayhisparkingtickets
Summary: The only ones in need of love are those who don’t receive enough so evil ones should get a little more...Lucien wants Caleb to dom him so bad it makes him look stupid. No, genuinely. He looks very stupid.
Relationships: Lucien/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 10
Kudos: 57





	Evil ones should get a little more

**Author's Note:**

> There's definitely some serious head-canoning going on here. This fic was mostly written because it's the fic I wanted to read and my girlfriend is good at egging me on.
> 
> A couple of notes:  
> \- It's my fanfic and I get to choose the height differences.  
> \- Lucien's whole hivemind thing is up for debate. This is just how I think it works, but I know in my heart of hearts that he remembers being Molly. I know it, Matthew Mercer. Matthew Mercer, if you're reading this, please don't read this.  
> \- Caleb is trans cause I say so.  
> \- The title is from a Will Wood song cause I'm also trans.  
> \- Caleb Widogast is a slut. Like an emotional slut. I won't elaborate.

Lucien had followed Caleb back to his room after dinner, which was weird. Mostly it was creepy. He was trying to sneak up on Caleb, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it in part because this whole building was basically made of Caleb. Or maybe, he wasn’t trying to sneak around at all. Maybe that’s just what he wanted Caleb to think. Maybe he knew about the threshold crest or that he and Beau had read the book last night or... something. He probably knew about the eyes. Or maybe he was just trying to get Caleb on edge in general. Maybe. 

Caleb ducked into his room and waited for Lucien to creep through the door. Then, he grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed Lucien back against the door hard, slamming it with the impact. “What are you doing?” he said, his hands snaking down Lucien’s arms to wrap around his wrists. Caleb pulled his wrists up above his head and pinned them against the door, all the while trying very hard not to let his eyes trail down to Lucien’s lips and largely failing.

Lucien huffed at him, something between laughter and disgust. “What are _you_ doing?”

“Hm.” Caleb said, now staring at Lucien’s lips openly. “This is not good.”

“Am I not being a good boy? I’ve been told I can be a bit of a brat now and then.” Lucien wasn’t trying very hard at all to keep his eyes off Caleb. Granted, the lack of pupils made it a little hard to track where exactly he was looking, but the heat of his gaze as he surveyed Caleb’s face and body was enough to make Caleb’s ears blush. “Mostly in the bedroom,” Lucien finished. And, well, okay. Guess they were saying the quiet part out loud then.

Caleb’s mouth went dry. He swallowed hard and Lucien dipped his head forward to suck a messy kiss right next to where Caleb’s Adam’s apple would have been if he’d had one. That felt deliberate. Caleb tried not to let himself sink into his own mind— _ He sees through you. They all see through you. They know what you’re hiding. _ —mostly because it just wasn’t a very sexy place to be. That being said, it was almost kind of nice to be thinking about passing in the context of sex. He’d spent so much of his life trying not to be recognized as himself that the thought of worrying that Lucien wouldn’t recognize him for what he was seemed kind of silly, but the good kind of silly, like a luxury. Still, though, between this and the eyes it was probably best he kept his clothes on. Alright, Lucien might know about the eyes, but better safe than sorry, Caleb; you’re always so sorry, Caleb—and, oh, right, Lucien was saying something.

“So are you just going to stand there or are you going to throw me around a little.” Lucien had his tail wrapped around one of Caleb’s thighs, squeezing just a little too hard.

“This is a bad idea,” Caleb said, blinking a few times and trying to figure out how he had gotten here and why he was still pinning Lucien to a wall in his stupid little magic castle that wasn’t even for Lucien, wasn’t really even for Caleb either. He could feel Lucien tensing and untensing his muscles where Caleb had him by the wrists. He was taller than Caleb. Molly had been too, had been even taller than Lucien in his heels, but Molly had never made Caleb feel so... unsafe, even when he’d been the one pinning Caleb to a wall. Lucien’s eyes were watchful, as always. They were like a cat's eyes—not Frumpkin's, but like the cat Caleb had had as a boy. The one who once watched a mouse scamper back and forth across the floor for hours before finally getting bored and ripping through its throat. Theoretically, Caleb was the one pinning Lucien down, but he could already imagine what Lucien’s teeth would feel like against his throat. 

Lucien slipped a forked tongue over his teeth like he could hear exactly what Caleb was thinking and dropped his head to one side. “If you think I’m so bad,” he said, “then maybe you should punish me?” He leaned forward again, this time biting Caleb’s earlobe and then turning to his neck to make a dark mark in the spot he’d previously kissed. Beau would definitely tease Caleb about that if she noticed it, and she would notice. But, then again, he had a scarf in his things and it was so cold that she probably wouldn’t look askance at him wearing it pulled up practically to his ears. But what if Veth got cold and he had to give her his scarf or they were in a fight and it came undone or what if someone saw Lucien leaving his room and assumed that—

“Are you even paying attention to me?” Molly—no, Lucien said, looking down at Caleb petulantly. It wasn’t that it was easy to confuse Lucien and Molly. Frankly, it wasn’t. They had very little in common. But something in Lucien’s tone just then had reminded Caleb of some of Molly’s more annoying habits. Molly, who had always wanted everyone to look at him, pay attention to him, who had wanted to be cared about and didn’t much care himself whether it was out of love or hate. Things about Molly that Caleb had almost forgotten and that were easier to remember fondly than they had been to actually deal with. Maybe it was just that both Molly and Lucien were so flamboyant and so—though in entirely different ways—so very needy. Well, Caleb was one to talk about need, and, anyway, he had made a decision.

“Ja, yes. I will do this with you.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so eager.” 

“Fine. I will fuck you, then.” Lucien’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly and the side of his mouth twitched into a smile. Okay. Okay, Caleb could do this. “I will hold you here and I will make you come screaming my name, ja?” 

“So do it.” Lucien jerked forward, snapping his teeth, and Caleb slammed him back into the wall. He’d been startled and so he’d pushed Lucien down a little harder than he’d meant to. His head had made a sharp thunk as it had hit the wall, but that only made Lucien smile, his lip bleeding where he’d bitten it during the impact. No, this wasn’t right. Caleb didn’t want anything like this. He let go of Lucien’s hands and took a step back.

“What?” Lucien sneered at him. “Too much for you?”

Caleb fixed him with his best earnest look, a sort of amalgamation sad and intense expression he’d been working on primarily because it seemed to compel the Nein to touch him in soft, comforting ways. “I think you have misunderstood me, Lucien. I am not... I do not wish to be that. I will still make good on what I have promised, but I will do so in my own way. Please, let me know if at any point you would like me to stop.”

Lucien looked at him like he’d grown another head. “What are you even talking—” he started, but then Caleb dropped to his knees in front of him and it became abundantly clear what Caleb had been talking about.

——

Technically, this was what Lucien had wanted. He reminded himself of that when Caleb ran his hand along the inside of his thigh. He reminded himself of it when Caleb pressed a soft kiss to his hip bone. And he reminded himself of it when Caleb started undoing the laces of his trousers. It was what he had wanted in a certain sense, but it definitely wasn’t what he had been expecting. Caleb knew how to put on a good face. So far, he had regarded Lucien with a friendly sort of suspicion. More importantly, he had a penchant for keeping Lucien in his place, which was something Lucien could get behind… or, maybe, something that could get behind him. Caleb had played along with Lucien’s games, given as good as he’d got, but now Lucien was beginning to understand that while his threats were to be taken seriously, the man himself was far less threatening than he let on. Broken, mostly. He clearly loved his little group of ragtag compatriots, but he also stood a bit apart from them, like he couldn’t let himself  _ be _ loved, at least not entirely. Lucien could understand that. Call it fear of rejection, whatever. He’d been through the ringer enough times to know how to keep his distance, and if that was what Caleb wanted to do here then so be it.

Mollymauk, on the other hand, hadn’t been any good at distance at all. Lucien could hear his aberrant self screaming at him within the din of other voices he was always always working to block out. Well, voices wasn’t exactly the right word. Lucien’s head was filled with memories that weren’t his, too many to sort through. Most of them were from another world, a city of noise and magic and rage, but a small collection of them was more recent. Those were harder to deal with. Molly telling lies, reading fortunes, doing tricks, dying. When those memories rose unbidden in his mind, Lucien saw Molly die more than he saw anything else. At least, that’s how it had been before he’d run into the Mighty Nein.

Even before they’d met, he couldn’t help watching them. Sue him, he was curious. But, since they’d been traveling together, he’d been seeing more and more of his past life. Beau laughing at something he’d said, the gullible shine in Jester’s eyes when he lied to her, late nights at the circus with Yasha, and Caleb—Caleb pressed against a wall somewhere, flushed red with anger or something else. Lucien should have known he was never going to top him no matter how commanding he pretended to be. It really was a shame though.

“Do you know what to do with that?” Lucien said as Caleb wrapped his lips around the pointed tip of his cock.

Caleb pulled back, and studied Lucien’s dick like one of his spell books, which is to say, just a little too clinically for the context they were currently in. He wrapped his long fingers around the ribbed shaft and rubbed his thumb over the scaled underside. Lucien shivered, pressing his shoulders flat against the wall behind him. Caleb leaned forward and gave his slit an experimental lick, like a kitten, or was that a weird thing to think in a house full of magical cats? God, how did Lucien get here? Caleb looked up at him, cocked his head slightly to the side, and answered very very solemnly, “Same dick.”

Right, well, that either answered some questions or raised quite a few new ones. Maybe both. Lucien tried valiantly to split his focus between his own rifling through Mollymauk’s memories for answers and Caleb licking a line down the scales on the underside of his dick. There was the forehead kiss in the alleyway, a threesome he’d had involving a rug, the unfortunate incident with the egg on his dick. That was it though. Which meant that Caleb, who even with a new pair of eyes at his disposal definitely didn’t know Lucien remembered anything about being Molly, was literally just fucking with him. That was… probably fair. Definitely fair given that Lucien had really only followed Caleb back to his room in order to bully him into fucking him. Well, that and because he’d thought Caleb would feel guilty about fucking him so rough (an idea that Lucien rather liked), and then he’d feel even worse when he realized the Tombtakers had already stolen their bag of holding (an idea that Lucien loved). That had been the plan anyway. That had been what Lucien wanted. What he was getting was Caleb Widogast gently and willingly choking on his dick.

It’s not that Lucien was complaining, right? Like, it was good. Caleb was good and it felt good and it didn’t have to mean anything that Caleb wasn’t willing to hurt him no matter how much Lucien clearly wanted him to. It just wasn’t what he had been expecting.

Lucien’s hands were scrambling aimlessly against the wall for purchase and Caleb, not once taking his attention away from bobbing on Lucien’s cock like it was his fucking job or something, cautiously took them in his own again. It was a much softer gesture this time, Caleb lacing their fingers together and squeezing just hard enough to keep Lucien grounded. That was fine too. Holding hands during a blowjob was certainly not the weirdest sex act Lucien had been party to, but it was making him reconsider his earlier thoughts about distance vis a vis Caleb and keeping it. Lucien had no idea what Caleb was thinking. He’d thought he understood whatever little game they were playing. He’d thought he was winning. Now, he couldn’t be sure. The whole thing was strangely intimate in a way sex really shouldn’t be.

Really, it was overstimulating, Caleb hollowing out his cheeks and rubbing a thumb against the back of Lucien’s hand at the same time. Lucien must have been twitching or something because Caleb seemed to get the hint that this was getting to be a bit much. He pulled Lucien’s hands up to his hair and fiddled with his fingers insistently until Lucien got a good grip. That was a mistake. Lucien would show him it was a mistake. He pulled Caleb’s hair roughly enough that a few strands broke off in his grip. But, Caleb only moaned, sending a reverberation over Lucien’s dick that made him cry out into the room. It was beginning to dawn on Lucien that this whole endeavor had been a mistake. Because Caleb was being kind to him, was taking care of him even though he knew—had to know—that Lucien would betray him at the first opening he got. So, what was the point of this? It was one thing to hate fuck and run but this? Caleb pulled partially off of him and let his tongue rest against the bottom of Lucien’s dick. When he looked up at Lucien, his eyes were dark and wanting. How stupidly, pathetically mortal of them both.

But, it was clear what Caleb wanted and, even if Caleb had decided to be a tease about beating him up, Lucien was a bit of a people pleaser at heart so sure. He fisted his hands hard in Caleb’s hair and brought him forward harshly. Caleb coughed slightly and then swallowed hard around Lucien’s dick. He let his hands wander, caressing the backs of Lucien’s thighs fondly while Lucien fucked into his mouth. Weird.

Lucien wasn’t going to last long like this.

To be fair, Caleb was really giving it his all, touching him softly under his clothes and looking at him softly too. Lucien didn’t know what his own face looked like. He didn’t want to know. He shut all of his eyes against it, against Caleb, and against whatever it was Caleb was ringing out of him. He kept his eyes shut when he came and when Caleb, standing in front of him again, swiped his thumb against Lucien’s cheek and said, “You are crying.”

Lucien opened his eyes again. “I’m not,” he said, and it didn’t matter if it was a lie because he was in control again. It was weird to think he hadn’t been before. That he would have been more in control if Caleb had punched him than he’d felt when Caleb let him fuck his throat. He had let him. Hm.

Caleb must have swallowed or maybe just cast prestidigitation because the room around them looked as clean as ever. Caleb was already tucking him back into his trousers and lacing them up. In a second, it would be like nothing had happened between them at all. “Do you want me to...” Lucien started, gesturing vaguely at Caleb, who despite everything was still wearing his goddamn jacket.

“No.” He said it a little too quickly and, clearly catching himself, amended, “No, I’m alright. It is late, and I am meant to be meeting the Nein anyway. I thank you though.” He gave Lucien a smile, a real one, not the shy twitch Lucien had seen on his face previously. Then, he pressed his thumb against Lucien’s cheek again and said, “You are still crying.”

Lucien shrugged him off. “I’m really not,” he said, moving forward until Caleb was forced to back up and then turning to open the door behind him. With his back to Caleb, he whispered, “Try not to miss me too much.” And then he was gone. He hoped it made him look smooth or scary or anything but sad.

As he made his way back to the Tomb Takers, and as they made their way, single-mindedly, back out into the tundra, Lucien envied Mollymauk for the first time. He had been an aberration. Worse, he had been a toddler. Lucien had beheld wonders, would behold more wonders still. And what had Molly known? Nothing. He couldn’t even really read. He’d only been alive for two years and yet. He had been loved. Lucien knew that now, viscerally. By all accounts, their Molly had been as much of an asshole as Lucien was now, but he had known how to be loved.

Lucien had a far greater purpose than that.


End file.
